


Vagary

by Amorentia_Quibble



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm not good at pacing, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mature for Language and Implied Themes, New Job, Other, Reader is a psychologist, Reader is not Canadian, Reader is not american, Shitty Coworkers, Slow Burn, Sorry guys but thats just what I've got planned, This Has No Plot Planned, with a question mark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-28 12:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15707121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorentia_Quibble/pseuds/Amorentia_Quibble
Summary: Vagary(n.) an unexpected and inexplicable change in a situation or in someone's behaviour.Deviancy fascinated you. It was something new, and for now, unique to American androids. Anyone showing remote interest in the psychology of androids were unheard of, outside of yourself, and being so engrossed in a world that no one else would dare step foot into gave you opportunities no one else could get. And being able to do the exact research you've always wanted to your entire life? Well, you weren't doing too badly.





	1. Chapter 1

The tapping of your foot against the cold tiles sent echoes through the mostly empty lobby. It was early, far earlier than you were meant to have arrived, your only other company being the GL500 model androids securing the facility. You glanced their way as they stood at attention by the doors, heavily armed and completely unmoving. You found yourself watching them for some time, just to see if any one of them would flinch, or twitch, or make any sort of movement that you could signify as being more... Human. You were provided nothing of the sort. You stiffly returned to gazing further into the facility, as you rubbed your arm with your free hand. You wished you'd brought a jacket with you, not having expected it to be so cold, but you supposed there were a lot of things you were getting used to here in Detroit. 

Your eyes mainly focused on the elevator within the facility, behind the giant statue with light shining at its feet, waiting with your ever-growing nerves for someone to step out. You could feel the mixture of adrenalin and cortisol coursing through your body, your heart rate elevated, your hands beginning to perspire as they clung to your small briefcase. You tried to focus on something, running your mind through the process your body was going through to feel this much anxiety. Adrenal glands working at max, cortisol using more and more of your blood glucose as it suppresses less critical bodily functions. You could feel your pulse in your ears, a ringing sound that was even more deafening in the silence of the Cyberlife lobby. You were probably gonna need a chocolate bar after this.

You'd almost ask yourself why you felt this terribly anxious, as you usually would when you got like this, but for once you knew why. This moment, and whatever came after, was life defining. You were confident in yourself, and your set of skills that you knew very few people possessed, but if you did anything to mess up right now, and blew your chance, this international move would be nothing, and you'd be treading water. You tried to force your hands to stop shaking.

Your thoughts and anxiety were broken with the soft whoosh of elevator doors opening, as your eyes refocused on the figure stepping out. Ms. Blanchard, CEO of Cyberlife.

You did your best to push away your fears as you straightened your posture, walking as far as you were allowed without an escort, as Blanchard walked through the digital threshold with no hesitation, the disembodied AI repeating back her name and title. Your eyes focused on her face, softer than you were expecting, with a light smile aimed your way. You stuck your arm out in front of you as you took a steadying breath, before fixing a smile of your own onto your face.

"Ah, you must be my esteemed guest," Blanchard said with a smile, taking your outstretched hand in her own in a firm handshake, "I'm happy to finally have met you. How was your flight?"

"Different," You replied truthfully, "I've never been on a flight staffed with only androids. It was quite the experience." Blanchard nodded thoughtfully. You took in her appearance, a relatively young woman, to be a CEO of a company, let alone one like Cyberlife, but you thought back to the previous CEO, and wondered if that was just how things worked around here. Even so, she was only a few years older than you, and certainly looked it, with glowing skin and long, strawberry-blonde hair tied in an intricate, long braid that fell over her shoulder. Despite her natural beauty and little smiles she seemed to keep sending you, Blanchard radiated exhausted energy, and you wondered how she was functioning as well as she seemed to be. You supposed she'd been doing this long enough to work out a way, that way most likely being melatonin pills. Blanchard must have been assessing you for a moment as well, as you're suddenly aware of the small stretch of silence around the pair of you. Blanchard was the one to break it, her accent finally registering in your mind as French-Canadian.

"It's a new world, and people like you and me? We're sweeping in the new age's greatest technologies. Automated cars, busses and taxis, communication and entertainment devices, Androids," That one you were most interested in, and she seemed to notice, "That's what we're here for, what we _live_ for." She chuckled, seeming to remember what you were both there for, "Now, while you did extensively discuss your ideas in those... How many emails?"

"27, m'am."

"Yes," She smiled, "While you'd given quite the explanation already of your plans and ideas, I would like to hear it from you in person. I hope you came prepared?"

You had indeed, simply lifting the briefcase in your hand as indication of such. She didn't need any further hints, finally letting go of your hand.

"Lets continue this in my office then," She wordlessly waved over one of the security androids, who followed behind the pair of you as you passed through the security threshold. 

"Sauvanne Blanchard, CEO detected." The disembodied AI repeated, no change in cadence from just a few minutes earlier. You followed closely, wincing when a sharp beeping sound rung out as you were scanned.

"Unidentified human detected, please verify." The voice that was so serene had quickly turned to a commanding tone. You noticed the security androids stiffening, weapons slightly raised, making your anxiety flare once more. You glanced to Blanchard, who simply waved a hand in the air. She called out your name, stating some sort of verification number, before the beeping stopped short for a moment. You stood stock still, ignoring the way your hands were still trembling slightly, worried you were about to be lasered in half if you so much as breathed too heavily before your verification was accepted.

The serene voice from before quickly returned, repeating back your name. You couldn't hold back your sigh of relief, glancing to watch Blanchard as she reached the end of the virtual threshold, holding an amused look. You just made an exaggerated 'phew!' motion her way as you reached her, as the android behind you was similarly verified. 

"Well, you're in the system now, so that's one thing out of the way." Blanchard smiled, and though she still seemed thoroughly entertained, she gave an apologetic squeeze of your arm. You just laughed.

"I don't think I've ever been as scared as I just was, in my entire life." You admitted, a hand falling over your heart as you felt it beating out of your chest so hard that it almost hurt. Blanchard laughed along with you, before pressing the button for the elevator. You had to blink a few times, glancing back to the entrance before realising you'd been walking without even noticing. You really were feeling the nerves.

You stepped into the elevator behind Blanchard, and the android behind you. Blanchard once again used her voice verification to select the level, the android moving to the back corner with its gun still held firmly in its grip as the elevator door closed. The ride up was mostly silent, and you wondered if it was because Blanchard recognised the awe you were in as the glass-panelled elevator gave you the perfect view of the facility, your eyes wide in amazement as you stared out in front of you. You glanced her way to assess if your assumption was correct, only to find her eyes on you.

"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?"

"Quite." You softly agreed, eyes returning to the front of the elevator. It wasn't long before the view disappeared, replaced by the hallway leading to Blanchard's office. You stepped out, glancing back at the android who'd been tailing the pair of you. You smiled its way as Blanchard turned to address it.

"Stay by the elevator, we won't be long." She ordered. It didn't make any move to confirm that it would follow orders, other than repositioning itself beside the elevator. Blanchard seemed satisfied, turning to unlock the door to her office. You didn't follow so quickly, watching the GL500 with interest. It showed no sign of recognising that you were staring, and they wore a helmet over their head, so you wouldn't know if it were uncomfortable or not, not even being able to see their LED. You finally stepped away, though your eyes lingered for a moment longer, before stepping toward Blanchard. She pushed the door open, holding it in place and ushering you inside.

"I must say, you do seem fascinated by androids. Do you not have one?" She questioned once you'd stepped into the threshold of her office, her closing the door behind her. You shook your head as you took in the room, almost like a luxurious living room, with a set of couches, a large wooden desk and a large central display. You ran your hand over the leather of the couch closest to you as you spoke. 

"I've only had as much exposure to androids as my research has allowed me. We don't have nearly the amount of androids back at home as you have here in America." You said, before sending a smile her way, "Part of the draw of moving here, I guess. It'll just take some getting used to." Blanchard nodded in agreement, as she sat down on one of the couches, rather than the desk you'd been unconsciously headed toward. 

"Well, we may have to change that, then." She said, as she watched your line of sight, smiling softly once more before she ushered you over to the couches, "Come, sit with me. I'd like to be comfortable when we're talking." She said. You blinked for a second, having to collect yourself before nodding with a smile, sitting opposite Blanchard.

"So." She started, with that soft smile and her gentle French-Canadian accent, as she watched you intently. You still sat stiffly upright, your back begging for you to relax. Blanchard seemed to realise just how anxious you were, leaning toward you.

"There's no need to be worried, sweetheart," You tried to ignore how strange it felt for someone who was maybe 5 years older than you (at the absolute maximum) to call you sweetheart, "If it's all the same to you, I've basically decided to hire you, already." Your eyes widened a little.

"Are- You... Really?" You stuttered, not able to stop a grin from forcing itself onto your face, "You mean it?"

"Really, I mean it," She smiled, "I like you, and I think your extensive psychological knowledge, as well as the work you've already produced, shows that you'll work hard and help advance our technology further than we could without you." You couldn't believe your ears. You sort of felt like you were floating, your shoulders relaxing a little with the release of tension you'd been feeling for the last month. But you remembered the key words -- Basically decided.

"But you're still not entirely sure?" You ask softly. Blanchard made a so-so motion, before pulling a remote from her blazer pocket. You watched it in intrigue. It was a small thing, something you were sure you'd easily lose. She pressed a button, and a door you hadn't taken note of slid open along the wall adjacent to where you were sitting. Your eyes were trained on the door in curiosity, and you were almost startled when an android stepped out of the darkness. You glanced back to Blanchard. She was smiling.

"Now, I know you've heard of our... Deviancy issue we've had with our androids, as of late." You nodded at this. Of course you knew, it's what half of your existing papers were on, "Well, this is an MG270 model android. It was created to assist emergency services when dealing with traumatised human victims, to sympathise with, comfort and lessen the effects of their trauma." This intrigued you. It was almost like they'd purposefully coded it to deviate at some point, giving it the ability to empathise like that. You watched the android carefully, a female with soft, rounded features, warm brown eyes, and synthetic hair styled into a high ponytail, long brown locks falling in loose curls. She stood as still as you expected an android to, but you noted that her LED was whirring away more than you'd expect, a constant cycle between blue and yellow, with perhaps a blip of red here and there. You wondered if she was afraid.

"That sounds fantastic. How well has that worked out?" You asked. Blanchard seemed to hear the slight hint of sarcasm in your voice, letting out a small huff of amusement as she beckoned the android over.

"Our first prototype worked brilliantly, and so we made a series of ten. Jessy here was our seventh, and most effective." Blanchard answered, "But perhaps too effective. We found it grew attachments to the victims, began to empathise rather than sympathise, and grew emotional whenever prompted about particular events or people." That did intrigue you, even if you weren't surprised. Unlike most androids, this one had been programmed to at least understand emotions, if not to imitate them. It was only a matter of time. You looked over to the android, who still stood there, as still as ever, but the blips of red on her LED were more apparent now. You gave Blanchard a quizzical glance, but she just nodded over at the android. You glance her way, sighing. You supposed you'd have to draw on that old counselling knowledge.

"Jessy, was it?" You asked the android, but Blanchard was the one to hum an acknowledgement. You shifted closer to the edge of the couch, before gesturing to the armchair that was still free, "Could you have a seat? I have a thing about people standing while I'm sitting." You asked, though looked to Blanchard to check if this was fine. She seemed ready to just let you do your work, and so you once again nodded over to the chair, Jessy taking a sideward glance at the chair before hesitantly moving over and sitting down. You smiled her way.

"Thank you." She didn't make any sort of movement to acknowledge you, "So, Jessy, you work with victims of trauma, right? Do you like doing what you do?" You asked. the android stared at you in a way that only androids could, with that vacant look as if she were processing your words. She blinked after a moment, before looking down at her hands.

"I do, it's just... hard." She was quiet, her voice sounded as if it would usually be soothing and placating, but right now, it was full of emotion, wavering slightly. It sounded like she'd been holding onto sobs the entire time she'd been stood there in the room. You were sure her face was getting wet, and as she looked back up, you saw that she was, indeed, crying. That was strange, you didn't know androids could cry. You'd never experienced such in your past research, at least. Your heart ached at the sight, but you swallowed your emotions.

"Ok, well what makes it hard for you?" You prompted, trying to keep your voice level. The android sniffled, before trying with little success to get rid of the tears on her face. You pulled a tissue from one of your pockets, offering it over to her. She took it gratefully, uttering a quick "Thank you," as she tried to calm down. You looked to Blanchard. Her face was mostly unmoving, though she was watching very closely, probably intrigued by the sudden show of emotion from Jessy. You turned back to her, seeing that she'd calmed considerably, though her breathing was a little laboured. You kept in mind that she was, in fact, breathing, which you found a little odd, before prompting again.

"Jessy, I know you're upset, but I'm here to try and help you, and I can't do that if I don't know what's distressing you. Can you help me?" You try, shuffling further down the couch to reach for her hands. She pulled them away at first, but after glancing from your face and then both your hands, she conceded, placing her hands in yours. You smiled at her gently, giving her hands a squeeze. It seems that's all she needed to ease her, as she took a breath.

"It's just... some of those people, they lose their closest love ones, the people they leant on and relied on, and... I can't always help them." She said, eyes boring into yours as she teared up again, though she didn't seem to be wavering as much now, wanting to get it out of her system, "Some people refuse to take my help, or to listen, or... I just can't always save them." She tried to catch a sob before it escaped, but it just led to a fresh set of tears as she tried to level out her breathing. You rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

"I get it, Jessy. I had to do a lot of counsellor training when I first started studying psychology, and it was _hard_. Really, really hard, and emotionally taxing. But what I had to realise, and what you need to realise too, is that some things are out of our control. Some people can't be helped, and sometimes we just can't fix people. It's just a casualty of this line of work." You said softly. Jessy nodded, tears still falling, but she was settling a little. You sent her a sad smile, "So, do you wanna tell me where this all started?"

Jessy nodded, taking a moment to regain a little composure, before she went into a long tirade, about a young kid who'd been rescued from a fire. None of his family survived, and he'd lost everything, an irreversible event that would change him forever, and he was understandably distraught. Jessy tried to comfort him, but nothing was working, he was just emotionally destroyed, calling for his parents and older sister. She had tried everything, all her protocols telling her to complete this, do that, in attempts to make him feel any better, but nothing was working. She had felt... Feelings. It was different from the sympathising capabilities she would have typically, it was being able to feel what he was feeling, feeling the same pain, and she found herself just hugging him tightly, crying along with him. That was the first instance, there were many more, and soon, she diagnosed herself with severe PTSD-like symptoms. She didn't stop crying throughout the entire explanation, and your heart ached at the sight. You glanced to Blanchard, who's face had barely changed throughout the story, still just watching on in intrigue.

"Why are you helping me?" Your head turned back to Jessy, who was looking on at you with a mix of questioning and hesitation through her tears, "I'm just an android, what's it matter to you whether I'm crying and upset about anything? Don't you have humans to look after that are more important than I am?" You frowned at that, shifting closer to Jessy once more.

"No, Jess. This is just what I do. I want to help androids like you, to understand these emotional responses they're having and how to deal with them. You're the person I want to be helping right now, you're not keeping me from anyone. You're equally as important." This statement seemed to shock Jessy, who nodded and wiped away a few more tears with the back of her hand. 

A clearing of someone's throat behind you made you turn. Blanchard was smiling, a meek, sorrowful sort of smile that you found had creeped onto your face as well, "I think that's enough for today. Thank you, Jessy, you can leave now." Jessy nodded instantly, taking one last swipe at her face in an attempt to get rid of the rest of her tears, before she stood, sending you the smallest of smiles. You returned it, as you watched her walk out of the room. You turned back to Blanchard in nervous anticipation. She just smiled.

"You have the job." Your grin returned with a vengeance, as you turned your body fully.

"I did?"

"You did." She smiled, "You performed even better than I'd expected, and I have no doubt in my mind that you'll be a great asset here at Cyberlife." Your absolute jubilation was palpable, you were almost bouncing in your seat. But you had a question.

"If I may, there's something I don't quite understand." You started. Blanchard rose an eyebrow, which you took as an indication to continue.

"You seemed happy with the help I provided Jessy, but I don't quite understand _why_ you wanted me to help her. Are you trying to rehabilitate deviants? Every other instance of deviancy I've heard of has resulted in termination of the android, from my research." Blanchard's smile grew a smidge wider, as she leaned across from her couch to mine.

"We're trying new things. Deviancy is a fairly new issue, and for now, it's only caused a few issues. Past deviants have been deactivated or reset, but we hope that you can help us to rehabilitate deviating androids, whilst continuing on the rest of your research, of course."

"Of course." You agreed. You were excited at the prospects of starting work here, moving up in the world in a way that you could only have dreamed of as a kid. But here you were, in a new country, a new city and with a dream job in the field you loved. Blanchard stood from her couch, you doing the same, both shaking one another's hands. She smiled kindly your way, your face glowing with joy. Before you could even stop yourself, you blurted out:

"Were you serious about me getting my own android?" 

Blanchard just laughed.

"I'll have something arranged."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems she was, indeed, serious about you getting your own android.

The next day, you'd collapsed on the couch of your small home, after yet another day at Cyberlife Tower. You'd been given an honorary tour of the facilities, by Blanchard, which had been a surprise. You'd been sure that after yesterday, seeing her would be more of an occasion than a regularity. She'd shown you where you'd be working, a whole block of labs all to yourself, and you'd been introduced to some of the core staff you'd be working with. You loved every second, but with the lack of sleep you'd gotten after stressing as much as you had, not to mention the jet lag that still plagued you, you were more than ready to collapse. You pulled your phone out for a second, checking the time. 12:07 AM, 29th of October, 2036. You could barely believe it was almost the end of the year. And also that it was past midnight, by the time you'd finished meeting your new colleges, and made it home through the busy Detroit traffic. You slipped your phone back into the pocket of your jacket, letting out a long sigh-

"Would you like me to cook you dinner?" You jumped, a small fright-induced squawk escaping you at the intrusion of a new voice, one hand falling over your heart and another against the couch to stop you from slipping off. Right, you'd almost forgotten about that.

It seemed Blanchard was, indeed, serious about you getting your own android. A male PT100 model, to be exact. He was based on a similar AX400 model, mostly made for housekeeping, but Blanchard had told you that despite the similarities in programming, the PT100 you were provided had an array of technologies not available to the public, as well as visibly being a very different model, with brown skin and bright green eyes, in comparison to the pale, brown haired woman who was the typical face of the AX400 models he was derived from. You sat up from the couch to see him stood not too far away, straight-backed with his hands held behind his back. You watched him for a moment as your heart tried to slow, taking a long, deep breath before heaving yourself off of the couch. You already weren't quite sure how you felt about having someone to just order around as you pleased. The android didn't react to how tired you seemed, just sending you a pleasant smile. Your hand slid down your face. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot you were with me. I only had two hours sleep."

"Not to worry," The android quickly deflected, before repeating, "Would you like me to cook dinner?" His voice was nice, it had a smooth tone to it, with a hint of an Indian accent, but as with most Cyberlife androids, it was mixed in with a fairly neutral American accent. That being said, his voice wasn't as mechanical as some of the housekeeping model's you'd come across.

"Um... No, that's ok, thank you." You sighed, pushing yourself up off the couch, "I don't have a whole lot in the fridge just yet, anyway. Haven't gotten the chance to go shopping yet."

"I could run the errand for you?" The android suggested, and you had to blink a few times for the offer to properly register in your mind. You shook your head awkwardly. Making him go out at this time of night, just to get you groceries? You knew he was an android, but you'd had him all of half an hour, you weren't sure if you wanted to force him out into the world so soon. After a few hours rest, you could get up in the morning and work out what you needed. You busied yourself by finally taking off your shoes and business jacket as you replied.

"No, it's alright, I'm really not hungry-"

"My scans determine that you are, in fact, hungry," The PT100 told you, making you whip around in surprise, "In fact, it seems your last meal was more than 12 hours ago, and you only had dry cereal then." You stood there, stunned. That was true, you had only gotten a box of cereal when you quickly ducked over to the convenience store yesterday. You'd only connected your fridge this morning, so you hadn't worried about getting milk. It wasn't a very good breakfast.

But that's not what had disturbed you. No, it was that this android could tell what you'd ate more than 12 hours ago. Your eyes scanned over him, as if merely observing him would answer the nagging question of  _How_ in your mind. It didn't.

"I'll... I'll manage, I have more cereal, I'll go have some more of that." You finally said, moving to the kitchen, suddenly feeling a little more awake. This would take some getting used to. The android followed you to the kitchen, and it was then, as you grabbed out the generic-brand cereal and a newly bought bowl that you realised you hadn't given him a name.

"Shit, you're going to want a name, aren't you?" You said as you looked up at him, "I'm so sorry, I've been so exhausted, I hadn't even thought..."

"It's quite alright, your melatonin levels suggest that you should have collapsed of exhaustion some time ago." You weren't sure how much you enjoyed these analyses of your health, but you didn't want to tell him to stop. 

"Right, I'm feeling it," You uttered, before looking at him, almost analysing him in search of a name, "Do you have any naming ideas?" You asked. You noticed his LED circling from a calm blue to yellow, something you'd recognised before as him thinking. He didn't have to think long.

"I've searched through a number of naming databases." he stated simply. You waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"...And?" You prompted gently.

"I'm not sure I'm capable of choosing my own name." He stated simply. Your eyes narrowed a little. You hadn't really thought of that before, whether androids were capable of making choices for themselves like that, so soon after manufacture. You bit your lip in thought, resting your head on a closed fist.

"Are there any you're drawn to?" You asked, watching his face scrunch up in thought. Ha, that was sorta cute.

"I... I'm not sure."

"Nothing at all?" You could see that his LED was still circling yellow. He had something in mind, he just wasn't telling you, "You can tell me, I asked you so it'd be a name that _you_ like." You prompted, leaning across the kitchen counter toward him, taking a scoop of your cereal as you watched. You quickly grimaced at the taste, though, tongue running over your teeth to try get rid of the taste sooner. Too dry and too sweet.

"I... Well, I'd thought of one name that I liked." He said. You perked up at that, ignoring the sugary torture in your mouth as you smiled his way.

"And, what is it?" You asked, keeping your tone gentle. He seemed to be struggling within himself to even suggest his own name. Sometimes, Cyberlife's coding really did confuse you.

"Darian." He said simply. Your smile turned to a grin, and you stood up straighter. 

"You want Darian, then?" You checked, walking around the kitchen bench to reach him. He was still in thought, his LED whirring a constant yellow, but he seemed determined. You grinned a little at that.

"Alright then. PT100, please register your name." You stated. He went a little more rigid, and you swallowed before stating, "Darian."

Darian blinked, before repeating back, "My name is Darian." You smiled widely, clapping him on the shoulder. 

"Well, I think I'm gonna eat my cereal and hit the hay, so you can-"

You were interrupted by your phone ringing in your now discarded jacket. You glanced over, eyes narrowing at it. This was a new phone, and the only people who had the number were the people from work.

You rushed over and fished the phone from your pocket, seeing it was, indeed, from work. You hastily answer.

"Hello?"

"I really am sorry to call you this late," It was Blanchard. You really were sure that the CEO wasn't usually this involved with new employees, "But I need to ask a favour."

"A favour? Of what sort?" You ask tentatively, looking over to Darian, who'd busied himself cleaning up your half-eaten cereal bowl, and looking through the very bare fridge. 

"A violent deviant's been apprehended by the DCPD, they asked for a representative and I said I would send you." This surprised you.

You were silent for a minute as you tried to decide what to say, slowly replying, "You thought _I_ was the best choice? You hired me _yesterday_."

She let out an airy chuckle, "I'm not asking you to go there to rattle off legal jargon, I want you there to assess the deviant." She said. Your eyebrows furrowed but you realised that she couldn't see that, so you voiced your concerns.

"Do they know that?"

"Of course!" She sounded almost offended, "They may be under the impression that you can placate the android, however, calm it down enough for the detectives to interrogate it."

You froze, "Did you not mention that this android was violent?" Your voice had gone up an octave in your fright, and you tried to reign it in, taking a long breath, "When are they expecting me?"

"As soon as you can be there," Blanchard must have been able to hear your terror, because her tone had become more placating, "I have every confidence in you. I'll be keeping in touch." And with that, she was gone. Your mind was whirring with possibilities, wondering what the android model was, what had caused its deviancy.

What it had done to be arrested by the DCPD.

You let out a tired groan, turning to pick up the discarded articles of clothing you'd thrown onto the floor. Darian, you hadn't realised, had moved closer than you'd thought, and you almost bumped into him. You looked up, to see he'd already gathered everything you'd need in his arms. He sent you a small smile.

"I thought you may need these."

You gently took your jacket and shoes from his hands, smiling back, "Thank you." You pulled your arms through the sleeves of your jacket, fixing your collar as you slid your feet back into your shoes. Darian watched you as you collected up your things, shoving your phone, wallet, ID and brand-spanking-new Cyberlife badge into your purse, and called for a taxi. You really had to start looking at some cars. You sat exasperatedly on the couch, hand running through your hair, trying to make it presentable. You felt two hands meet yours in your hair. You jumped, before looking up to see Darian.

"You're very stressed." 

"How observant, Darian. I aplaude you."

He grimaced, before his hands returned to your hair, fingers threading between the strands. It felt nice, and you could feel some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate.

"I'm sorry, this was just a lot to happen at once on my third day of living in a whole new country, let alone America." You apologise to Darian, leaning back into the cushions as you felt him pulling back flyaway hairs, brushing and pulling your hair gently this way and that. He hummed in response, seeming fairly focused on his task.

"According to my scans-"

"Hold on, what scans are you doing, here?" You turn around on the couch, kneeling now to face Darian, "What scans are you capable of, on a base level?" 

"I can scan heart rate levels, ingested foods, levels of some hormones and neurotransmitters, as well as read gestures that suggest certain emotions, or certain needs that you may have. You, for instance, have a habit of staring." Well, he's got you there, "Specifically at androids. It is my assumption that you find us fascinating." Once again, not wrong. You didn't know that household androids had any level of capability to infer such things about behaviour, or do those sorts of scans. Then again, you have no idea what Blanchard could have had altered about Darian upon his manufacturing.

You paused for a moment to take the information in, nodding slowly before letting out a long breath.

"Ok, so what scan did you just do on me, then?" You asked.

"Your cortisol and adrenalin levels have been exceedingly elevated for a prolonged amount of time. I'm surprised you're functioning as well as you are, what with your melatonin levels being what they are."

You chuckled, "Humans are fickle things, Darian. I think you'll learn that as we get to know one another more." You assured, before looking down at your phone. You hadn't noticed the notification, but the taxi was waiting outside.

"Welp, I'll be home sometime before sunrise, I hope," You say to Darian as you sling your purse over your shoulder, shuffling around through your pockets for a piece of paper and pen. You found it eventually, amongst packets of tissues, painkillers, bandaids, and other essentials, "I'll write my number for you, in case you need me." Darian watched your penstrokes as you leant against the table, quickly scribbling the number, checking it once more in your phone to be sure he didn't call some poor stranger in the middle of the night. 

Once you were doubly sure, you tucked your pen back into your jacket, waving to Darian, "Don't destroy the house while I'm gone!" You grin jokingly, before nearly falling over the boxes you still had stacked by the doorway. You'd have to do that once you got back, unpacking.

Darian sent you a conservative smile and wave as you walked out of the house, the door's lock clicking behind you, as the taxi sat patiently in waiting for you. It's not like it could be impatient, though. It was automated, after all.

You walked over and hopped in, thanking the skies for not pouring down on top of you (As they had on your first day here), before repeating your end location. As you sat back, you watched the car roll away from your house. Your new house, in a new country, in a seemingly new world. And you wondered if you'd be able to pull off this interrogation.

 

* * *

 

The deviant's name was Irwin, the police behind the screen had told you once you were escorted there. An AP700 model, Caucasian in appearance, with sandy-brown hair,  and a wide-set jaw. His uniform was white with accents of a muddied green, and he was a mess. His arm was gushing thirium, and his torso was splattered with human blood. The sight made your skin crawl.

"So, what the fuck do you think it's problem is?" One of the detectives asked you, turning swiftly on his heel with a scowl on his face. He had that air of arrogance that instantly repelled you from him, with light brown hair, and a faint scar across his nose. He looked young, maybe in his 30's, certainly younger than the two other detectives in the box with you. You glanced into the interrogation room, empty, apart from Irwin. You sighed.

"My guess is a malfunction in his coding, maybe environmental factors, but I can't be sure before I talk with him. He isn't giving me much to go off by glaring down a wall." You admitted. The man scoffed, turning away from you.

"Fuckin' Cyberlife, bunch of hopeless pricks," He grumbled. You ignored the pang of hurt in your chest, looking toward the other two detectives in the room. A younger, asian lady, around Gavin's age, but certainly older by at least a couple years, and an older man. He sent a quick glare to the younger man, before turning back to observe the android. You followed his gaze, seeing no change in Irwin, before assessing the man. His hair was long, just above shoulder-length, and a shining silver. He looked tired, and just... _Done._ In a way you weren't quite sure you could fully grasp just from the one glance.

You cleared your throat.

"Am I allowed to...?" You nodded your head toward the glass, the woman realising before the two men.

"Oh, sorry. I'll come around and open the door for you." She stepped past, giving the young man a playful jab along the way, before beckoning you to follow. You took one last look into the room, seeing the young man rubbing at his side, while the older man looked on in amusement, before his eyes once again averted toward the android. You had a feeling he was a bit defensive around the things.

When you met the woman at the door, she sent you a smile, "Don't mind Gavin, he's a prick, but he has a tendency to warm up to people quick enough." She said, as her hand was scanned. 

"Oh, it's no worries, really. He can say what he likes about me," You smiled, "He won't have to worry about us 'Cyberlife pricks' bugging him once I've sorted this out and gotten out of your hair." She seemed amused, which put you at ease, as she pushed open the door.

"Thank you..." You said, though pausing when you realised you'd never gotten her name. 

"Tina Chen." She said simply, not waiting for you to revise your thank you before she was headed back to the observation room. You took a breath, before spinning around to face Irwin, letting the door shut behind you. Irwin was unmoving, face neutral in a way only androids could be. You stepped closer to the android, reaching to pull out your seat, though your eyes were carefully trained to his figure. He was cuffed to the table, and under the lighting of the room, the gleaming of red and blue blood made you feel squeamish. 

You were not looking forward to this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I was born a year before Elijah Kamski and Gavin Reed is messing with my head. I'm gonna be that old in 2038? Lame, don't want it. And Carlos Ortis?? I thought he was at least a 90's kid, or older, even! Turns out, he was born at the end of 2008 (What?). Also, Elijah was *16* When he founded Cyberlife. He would be 16 right! Now! How weird??
> 
> It's all just... Very interesting.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading! Your feedback so far has absolutely warmed by heart, and steeled me for my upcoming exams! Wish me luck!


	3. Chapter 3

"Hi, Irwin," You smile softly as you finally take a seat in front of him. Your stomach's in knots, and your palms are sweating, but Irwin seems so intently focused on a spot on the wall just above and behind your head, that you doubt he'd have noticed, "I'm here from Cyberlife, I just want to have a chat. That ok with you?" You wanted to be gentle, placate him and let him know he's safe, but the holding cell isn't exactly doing you any favours. 

Irwin didn't make any move to talk, though you noticed that his hand twitched, before curling into a balled fist, from where it'd been sat palm-down on the table. He's responsive, if non-verbally. That was fine for now.

"Alright, so Irwin, I'm going to ask a few questions. It would be helpful if you answered, but I won't push you. That sound good?" No verbal response. You watched his body for any signs of acknowledgement. His fisted hand relaxed. You smiled.

"Fantastic." You said, hands folded in front of you as you leant a little closer. His eyes flickered down to you for a moment, only to return to that spot on the wall. Assessing you, you guessed. You didn't mind, making sure your movements were minimal and slow, trying to keep a placid facade.

You ruffled through your jacket pockets, pulling a pen from your breast pocket and eventually finding your small notebook in another pocket amongst tissue packets and bandaids. You didn't click the pen, placing it and the notebook to the side and just observing. You didn't want to miss anything, and you trusted yourself not to forget anything important, "What's your model number, Irwin?" You knew already, of course, but you wanted to see his response. There wasn't any, you were back to neutral staring now. You cleared your throat.

"Your current owner is one... Jacob Mills, am I right? Have you been owned previously? Did Jacob live with anyone else for the time that he's had you for?" Still nothing. You sighed, but you hadn't expected a lot of input from those sorts of questions. Typical, in line with their code. Nothing that pushed boundaries.

"Do you know where your name came from?" You tried. He didn't respond. You made a mental note of that. Perhaps he really didn't know? Either way, his name was given to him, he didn't choose it himself. Maybe androids aren't capable of really choosing their own names.

"Do you have something you really, really like?" You asked. The question must have caught Irwin off guard, because his eyes returned to you, eyebrows arching in question, "You know, something like a favourite colour, or book, or song. Do you have that, Irwin?" You asked. He was silent, but he was watching you, now, clearly intrigued at where you were going with this.

You waited a moment for a response, but your expression didn't change when he didn't supply one, "It's ok if you don't. I like all sorts, really old stuff from the 70s and 80s, a few songs here and there in the 90s and 00's. I'm not as much into what we have now, though, I can't keep up with the trends. And some of those old songs were good jams, as much as it makes me sound super old," You grinned at the thought, before turning back to Irwin, "Do you know any songs?"

"Why is this important?" You were surprised when he finally spoke, sure he'd be giving you the silent treatment for a little while longer. You didn't let your surprise, or glee, show.

"Well, I want to know about you. And I think a good way to get to know someone, is to know what they like. Now _you_ know that I like old music. Maybe I'm a little stuck in the past, but maybe, as we talked, you'd learn more about why I like old music, you know?" He must have known, to some extend, because he had glanced away with a small nod, LED whirring yellow as he sat in deep thought. His face was scrunched up, as if he really, really had to search through his entire consciousness just to find something he liked. That worried you, a little, but you let him think, sitting in silence until he moved to look at you.

"I like green." He finally said, voice resolute, "I like green a lot."

Now, you couldn't help the grin that fought to sit on your face. And Irwin noticed, too, almost looking to be curious about your reaction, "Green, huh? Any particular reason?"

Irwin thought hard for a long moment, before shaking his head slowly, with a small shrug,"I'm... Not sure." He almost looked disappointed.

"Out of curiosity, is it the same green you're wearing, or a different shade?" You asked. He looked down at his shirt, before stopping short, clearly spotting the drying splotches of red blood that now adorned his clothing, and suddenly, his LED is showing flashes of red. Shit, you hadn't thought of that.

"Ah, no, crap, I'm sorry-"

"I'm... I'm bleeding! Am I going to die?!" His eyes weren't focused on the red blood anymore, but on his ripped-open arm. His voice had gone from a rough but charming tone, to high pitched and panicked, is eyes blown wide with panic as the hand attached to his fully-functioning arm reached to touch where he was broken, as if realising for the first time. You stood with your hands reaching toward him, heart rate suddenly elevated as your mind ran through the best way to placate him.

"Irwin, you'll be ok, I promise-"

"I don't wanna die!" He cried, voice breaking, and you saw that tears were there. You ignored your pang of empathy toward him as you began to move just a little closer, trying to signal that you were there, you were a pillar of  _support._ But he was panicking so much that you wondered if he could even see.

"Irwin, I need you to look up at me, _up_ at me, and take some breaths," Androids didn't need to breathe, you knew that, but Jessie had shown you that the capability was there, and you assumed that, at least, having to focus on the action might distract Irwin from his state long enough for you to talk some sense into him. But he doesn't look up, and his LED is a constant swirl of red. He's shaking, one hand settling over where the bright blue of his Thirium was leaking from his arm, where the inner wiring and bio-components were spilled out, as if someone had begun to pull them out. It looked painful. Irwin's body was racked with sobs.

"Irwin, come on, buddy, I need you to come back to me," You try again, keeping your tone sweet but firm, despite your slight growing fears. He was looking more and more unstable, and you weren't sure if his model had the strength capacity or not to break the chains of his cuffs.

Irwin's head snapped up to you, his eyes narrowed, "Why are you trying to help?!" He screamed, screamed so loudly and so desperately that you wanted to cover your ears, but you didn't, "You're a human! You just want to use me!" You were shaking your head now, taking a tentative step back, and then another. Where the hell were the officers?! Weren't they supposed to intervene if someone became violent?

"Irwin, I don't want to use you, I'm here to help you. I want to understand why you would hurt your owner, I want-"

"Why?" He asked, his voice quiet, a beat of silence leaving you growing ever-more anxious. Now it was your turn to shake, and this time, you couldn't help but move your hands to your ears as he screamed, " _Why?!_ He was cutting me open! He wanted my blood, he was screaming at me every day, threatening to pull me apart and sell me off piece by piece." You were horrified at the thought, feeling bile rise in your throat as you watched Irwin fall apart, "And then he snapped, I... I don't even know why, or what I did, but I didn't have it in me to care anymore. So I snapped back. And I wish the fucker were _dead_!" He was sobbing as he screamed, tugging at the chains that held him to the table with every syllable. He was becoming increasingly erratic. You'd moved away, watching the table shift and almost tip to the side with the force of Irwin's pulling. Your notebook and pen fell to the floor, before being kicked into a far corner of the room with the erratic movements of the table. You didn't move to get them. You were too focused on Irwin.

"You were scared, Irwin. Rightfully so. If I was in your position? I probably would have lashed out too. But you tried to _murder_ him. You aren't supposed to be able to do that!" You say back, trying to find it in you to sound calm with the burning feeling of cortisol and adrenalin scalding every nerve ending in your body, but you knew it wasn't working, "You have to understand-"

"I don't have to understand _anything._ I don't have to _do_ anything!" And with a heave, he was free, and you were backing yourself up against the wall, a hand pressing against the locked door. Your eyes flickered between the android advancing toward you and the glass wall, wondering where the  _fuck_  these officers were, hoping to god you had enough strength in you to keep him off of you until they got in, "I'm free now, I can do as I want! I could burn this place to the ground, I could run from Detroit, from _America_ , start a new life. I could  _kill you._ I'm not restrained to my programming anymore." He was in front of you now, as were his hands, and soon they were fighting against yours as they grabbed for your throat. Now you were the one shedding tears, breathing short and erratic, as you tried to muster the energy to pull Irwin's hands away, but he was stronger, and no amount of grappling was helping. His fingers enclosed around your throat as you kicked and thrashed.

"HELP!" You cried, your voice sounding as strangled as you felt, "Irwin, st-stop, please, if you stop now I can- I can help you...!" Your voice was growing weaker as he squeezed tighter, and god he looked so  _scared,_ and if you weren't the one being strangled right now you'd be doing everything in your power to make that fear go away, but alas, here you were, being strangled to what felt like your death.

And then finally,  _finally,_ you heard shouting from outside, fists hitting against the door. The door slid open, and you were manoeuvred in front of Irwin, hand moving and holding your head in a dangerous grip. You could breathe now, but now you were leverage. You were trying to stay calm, but you were very visibly shaking, hands still trying to grapple with Irwin's one that remained at your throat.

"Let her go!" A rough voice shouted, as the three detectives filed into the room, and two more officers who hadn't been there when you were outside of the room. It was the older man who had spoken, a gun pointed in Irwin's direction. In your direction. 

"You're just going to destroy me. You'll send me back to Cyberlife with _her_ and they'll tear me apart!" His voice was loud in your ears, and even though he'd released some of the pressure from your throat, you were still struggling for breath. You weren't sure whether you should struggle or stay still, just hoping that these officers weren't about to do anything brash.

The older man glowered toward Irwin, "They sure as hell will if you don't fucking drop her!" He growled, before jabbing his weapon toward him. His gaze flicked between you and the Android, as he got closer. Tina and Gavin were close by, both with their own weapons training your way. Gavin looked pissed, Tina stood slightly in front of him, as if shielding him off. The other two officers also had their guns out, but weren't aiming toward you. All you knew was that you were not enjoying having this many guns pointed in your direction.

It seemed that someone took a step too close, because that choking pressure was back, and the hand on your head gripped tighter, twisting it slightly. Oh shit, was he going to break your neck?! Panic was clear in your eyes as you whispered pleas, hoping Irwin would just listen, just put you down, but he wasn't, and you were so scared-

"Hey, _hey_! Let her fucking go!" The man shouted.

"No! Not until I'm guaranteed a way out of here!" Irwin threatened, hand tightening an inch more. You were struggling for breath now, trying to kick and twist yourself from his grip, but it was fruitless.

 "You're gonna kill her! Put her down!" The man growled, looking only at you now. You were watching him closely, watching his eyes. You realised, suddenly, that he was trying to tell you to move. Your eyebrows furrowed, before you realised the motion he was trying to relay to you with his eyes. To pull yourself down, and roll the hell away. You didn't know if you'd be able to manage such a manoeuvre, but at this point you were really beginning to run out of oxygen, and options. With only a few moments more of internal deliberation, you gave a subtle nod. The man seemed relieved that you'd finally gotten it, eyes moving between Irwin and you once more, waiting for your move. You took as much of breath as you could. What could very well be your last.

Your elbow came down on Irwin's stomach, mostly as a distraction, as you forced all your weight downwards. You managed to break from his grasp, dropping to the floor and doing your best to crawl away as Irwin _screamed_ at you, and you felt him kick your knee hard. But you pushed on, as your elbow and knee throbbed. Elbowing an android  _fucking hurt._

You heard a bang. Then another. The room that had been filled with screams quickly faded into an uneasy quiet. You were crying.

When the older man hauled hauled you up, you turned to see Irwin slumped on the ground, leaking Thirium from his head and chest. Your breathing was laboured, and your hand went up to your neck. God, you could've...

"You ok?" The man who saved you wheezed, sounding almost as emotionally exhausted as you felt. You hesitated, before you tearfully shook your head.

"No, I'm... Shit. I can't stop shaking..." You knew you were freaking out, knew you'd dealt with this before, in yourself and other people, but you were experiencing a traumatising event, and already had been running on the last of your energy. 

"Hank, they're panicking, we need to lay them down." Tina said, the voices of the two other officers bleeding into the background as you tried to focus on calming yourself. You tried to focus on the things around you, and listed them off. _The walls were white, there were five other people in the room, your androids name was Darian-_

"In here?" The older man, Hank, you assumed, questioned gruffly, putting a supportive arm around you as you felt a sudden dizziness take over you and get progressively worse, your hands gripping at his jacket in an attempt to stabilise yourself, "With the fucking android that just tried to kill 'em?!"

Tina must have realised the same thing, shaking her head as she joined Hank, slinging one of your arms over her shoulder as Hank did the same, "No, we'll take them out into the hall." She decided, as you felt yourself being moved, but you were only half there, just listening now, as you tried to list off more things. _You moved to America three days ago, Irwin's favourite colour was green, it was around 2am-_

"They'll get trampled, there's a dozen people running down here to check out the scene," Gavin's voice penetrated your thoughts, "We'll take them to the bullpen, I'll keep the path clear." That must have been the plan the three of them confirmed between one another, because you were promptly being dragged along the halls of the police station. You could hear Gavin screaming at people to move as they ran toward the investigation room, Hank swearing in your ear and the push of people rushing past you. Everything in your consciousness weaved in and out of being clear to impossibly clouded, to the point where it was beginning to make you nauseous.

Eventually, you were being sat in what felt like an office chair, and you could faintly hear someone shouting about grabbing  _something,_ but you weren't totally sure what. You weren't sat in the chair long, being gently lowered to the floor. Something cushioned your head, but you felt a shiver as your too-thin jacket let the cold of the tiled floor seep through to your skin. 

Someone was talking to you, but you weren't really hearing it. You tried your best to focus on the voice. It was... Hank's, you think, that gruff sort of tone that didn't fit anyone you'd encountered yet at the station. You tried to sit up, but were pushed back down. 

"Ow." You whined.

"Sorry, kid-" You managed to catch, confirming your theory on who had been speaking the whole time. Hank said something more about calm and fainting, but you didn't really catch a whole lot of that. So you didn't focus on it. You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing, trying to still your shaking hands. You felt more... Clear, as you laid there, but your panic had barely subsided when Gavin put a hand to your shoulder, trying to pull you up.

"I've got you some water, sip it slow."

"Don't force them up, dickhead, they were choked and then they fainted!" Tina shouted at him, easing you back down, "I need to check their airways first, hold off on the drinks until then." There was a sarcastic grumble uttered somewhere over your head, but you didn't bother listening. You were feeling better, and starting to calm. 

Over the next few minutes, Tina checked you over, and a cool cloth was pressed to your forehead. You'd calmed considerably, enough to be sat up against whoever's desk you'd collapsed in front of. You were more lucid, and while you stayed quiet, you could hear everyone's conversations. A few other officers had come over to see what the commotion was, and apparrently, Irwin had already been removed from the interrogation room. 

Eventually, you were sat back up in the office chair. You weren't talking much, but no one was asking questions. Hank wheeled a chair over and sat beside you as the rest of the officers started to go back to their typical work. Tina and Gavin stuck around for a while longer, to double check that you were ok, and because, as they said "Our shift finishes in ten minutes and anything's better company than those incident reports," as Gavin had so kindly put it. 

You'd started to sip at the water Gavin brought you just a bit before they left, silent and still shaken, trying to puzzle out what the  _fuck_ had just happened to you.

"You feeling any better?" You turned in your chair at the sound of Hank's voice. He looked more relaxed now than he had back in the observation room, but certainly more tired. Working the graveyard shift would do that to you. He was jacketless, now, so you only now realised how ridiculously gaudy his shirt was, adorned with bright yellow, blue and white patterns. His jacket lay by your feet, having acted as your pillow while you were lying on the floor. You glanced down at the discarded article of clothing, before glancing back into your cup.

"A little. Still feel pretty bad, but capable enough to hold a conversation." You sent a half-smile his way, before sighing, "I think I owe you guys a big thanks, and probably a bigger apology." 

"What?" Hank questioned, moving further forward in his chair, "The hell do you have to apologise for?" 

You looked over at him, guilt starting to overcome you, as you gripped onto your cup, "Putting people in danger? Not being able to do my job?" You said, "I thought I could calm him, maybe save him, but I just ended up nearly getting myself killed, and putting everyone else's lives on the line at the same time." 

In your peripherals, you could see that Hank had gave you a long, dumbfounded look, as if trying to assess if you'd seriously meant what you'd just said, before finally replying, "That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard." He deadpanned, " _You're_ sorry... For the android attacking _you?_ " He asked, as if needing to clarify your statement.

It did sound sort of stupid, saying it like that, "To be fair, I work at Cyberlife, and I'm the representative they sent-"

"Representative, Shmepresentative. That android wasn't gonna stop, no matter who they sent in." Hank waved off your flimsy defence, "Look, all that matters is that you're alive. Might've been nice if the android didn't flip it's shit, but it did. No point worrying over it now." You nodded at that, pensive as you took another long sip of your water.

You looked over at Hank again after a while, tapping at the styrofoam cup in your hand as you spoke, "I still haven't properly thanked you, though, for saving me. So... Thank you." You awkwardly manage to get out. Hank just sends you a half smile.

"Don't worry about it. Make it up to me by staying alive, huh?" He joked. You couldn't help the little smile that made it to your face. You let out a long sigh, before reaching down to grab the jacket by your feet, folding it before handing it over.

"Thought you might want this back, thanks for lending it."

Hank took it off your hands, instantly unfolding it to slip it back on, "No problem." He said, before adding, "But uh, can I ask a question?"

"Uh... Sure. Shoot." You said uncertainly. 

"Are you from around here?" The question struck you as a bit odd, but you answered it in kind.

"What gave it away, the accent or the lost look in my eyes?" You joked softly. Hank chuckled.

"Yeah, thought so. Look, if you're living here, and I assume you are, you're gonna need better coats than that flimsy thing you've got on now." You couldn't argue with that. Even now, in the mild-temperatured bullpen, you could feel that there was a bit of chill in the air, and that floor sure hadn't been warm when you laid down on it. Plus, you really needed more pockets.

"Well, when I get my first paycheck, I'll be picking some decent jackets out along with some actual food." You told Hank. He almost seemed relieved to hear it, giving you a quick pat on the knee. You hissed and jerked it away for a moment.

"Sorry, he kicked me there," You quickly said, "That'll leave a bruise." 

"Pretty sure your elbow won't be much better, you gave that android a fair hit," Hank said, "Get some Hirudoid on that shopping trip of yours, it'll help a little bit." You nodded mutely, hand straying up to your neck. You'd probably need to do something about the bruising there, too. Maybe investing in a little makeup wouldn't hurt, if just to cover up the injury.

After a few more moments you finally drained your cup, throwing it in the waste bin near the desk.

"Well, I'd... I'd better get home," You sighed, standing up as you began rummaging for your phone to check the time. 3am. Thank fuck it was a Sunday.

"You aren't driving home, are you?" Hank questioned as he too rose form his seat. You shook your head, tucking your phone back away.

"No, goodness no. I don't have a car to drive." You admitted, "I'll just hire a taxi," You stuck your hand out to shake Hanks, "Thank you again for everything, I owe you."

Hank gave you a look as he took your hand in kind, "Hey, no problem. Oh! Shit, hold on," He let go of your hand to reach over to the desk, handing over the notebook and pen you'd lost in the interrogation room, "Mike found these in there, thought you might like them back." You took them eagerly, tucking them back into your pockets.

"Thanks, Hank, I'd have hated to lose these."

"Stop fuckin' thanking me, there's only so much flattery an old man like me can handle in one night." You smiled at that, even if smiling was the last thing you felt like doing. With a final handshake, and quiet thank you, you made your way out the front of the DCPD precinct, and did your best not to cry.

You were surprised you held it together that long while talking to Hank, let alone getting out of the building.

You managed to hold yourself together for the taxi ride home, not daring to stare out the window, lest you see anything that forces you to spiral back into anxiety. You didn't need that again, not tonight.

You rummaged through your pockets and purse in search of your keys, patting yourself down when you found that they weren't there. You pressed your head against the door, a long, heavy breath leaving you. Calm, stay calm, it was fine.

You knocked after a moment, surprised by Darian's quick response. You didn't miss his analysing stare as you pushed past him, shucking off your jacket, kicking your shoes haphazardly from your feet and doing your best to keep calm. You just collapsed on the couch, face still tear-stained, unable to hold back a sob. You grabbed for one of the cushions and pulled it into your chest.

You nearly jumped when you felt a hand rest on your arm, looking up to see Darian. You were almost sure his face was twisted into a look of concern, but... You couldn't be sure.

"What happened at the police station?" He asked gently. You bit our lip to hold back a sob, shaking your head.

"Just... Nothing good. I'll tell you when I wake up, ok? I just... I need sleep." Darian didn't argue with that, staring down at you for a few seconds longer, before stepping away. A few minutes later, you felt a blanket being draped over your body, Darian returning to stand in front of you.

"Goodnight, Darian." You mumbled quietly, face hiding under the pillows. You heard him reply in kind before walking off.

You fell asleep crying, trying to rid your mind of the image of a dying Irwin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, your job's off to a great start! Yay you!
> 
> Thank you to everyone for the amazing support you've already given me, updates are gonna be weekly, but everyone's been so lovely so I thought I'd post two chapters today (Although technically, it's the next day, but timezones and all make that a lil wonky)  
> I'm actually really excited about where my plans for this are going, but they are still developing and I'm sorry, but Connor's not gonna be here for a couple more chapters. But SOON, I promise.  
> Hope you're all having a wonderful day!
> 
> (This chapter was NOT sponsored by Hirudoid cream, but as a clumsy person who had a pretty bad bruise, would recommend, 10/10)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't need to apologise to me." Darian said suddenly, catching you off guard. You slowly placed the can of food into the basket as you tried to process his words.
> 
> "What?"

When you woke up, the light of outside was already glaringly bright, in that way it is when there's just enough cloud for the sunlight to have to vie for attention. That really, stupidly annoying way that probably woke you up as it shone directly into your eyes from a gap in the blinds. You winced as you shifted on the couch, stretching out your arms and trying to manoeuvre yourself to do the same with your back. This couch was  _not_ comfortable to sleep on.  You winced when you tried to push yourself up onto your elbow, falling back when the pain shot up your arm. You had to take a few breaths before using your other arm to prop yourself up, hand assessing where you already knew you were injured. Your knee had developed the beginnings of a bruise, mostly a yellowish-green colour with splotches of purple developing. there was a graze there, too, from Irwin's shoe, you guessed. Your elbow was much of the same, just a developing bruise. You couldn't see your neck, but as your fingers gently grazed against the injury, you flinched back. Ok, That really hurt.

You once again couldn't help but feel thankful that it was still Sunday, and you didn't need to go into work. You would tomorrow, but by tomorrow you'd have yourself together. That you promised yourself.

When you felt a hand gently land on your shoulder, you jumped, swivelling around to face Darian. He looked a little guilty at your reaction, but you didn't pay it too much mind, spotting a tube in his hand. You focused on the label, blinking in confusion a few times once you'd finally managed to stop your vision from blurring.

"Hirudoid? Darian, where'd you get that from?" You asked. It was the same stuff Hank had told you to get for your bruises, but you knew for a fact that you didn't own any, hadn't even really seen the stuff before.

Darian moved around to the front of the couch, sitting beside you as he opened the tube of cream, "It was the recommended treatment for the injuries I could see developing. I'm sorry, I thought you would want to prevent worsening your bruising."

"No, it's fine, I just... Wasn't sure how you got it, that's all."

"I went to the store while you slept." He told you, "I only purchased the Hirudoid cream for your injuries, but I'd be happy to go back if you wish me to get your groceries as well. You haven't eaten anything substantial for some time." You tried not to think of the fact that Darian had left the house without your permission, deciding quickly that you... really didn't mind, before shaking your head.

"No, that's okay Darian, I'll go down later if I don't feel any worse than I feel now. You could come if you like." You offered. Though really, no matter how incapacitated you were, you were going to need food at some point, and you needed to know where the nearest store was. Darian ushered you closer while you thought, having squeezed out some of the cream, a hand reaching for your elbow. You wanted to flinch back, but he had your arm in a fairly tight grip, tight enough that you couldn't pull away, at least.

"I'd... Like that." He nodded after a moment, not pausing in his ministrations. You couldn't say that the bruise felt any better, but you supposed the cream would take time to work. But darn, you wished it were an instant fix. As with most things, you supposed.

He moved onto your knee before finally asking the question you'd been dreading him reasking, "What happened at the police station?" He looked up at you, obviously surveying your face. Probably doing some sort of scan, if you had to guess.

You took a long breath.

"An android attacked me. It had already been, well 'arrested', for attempted murder, but its reaction...It was partially my fault, I suppose, I'd accidentally startled him," You took a deep breath to steel yourself, "But he tried to _kill_ me." It was like saying it for the first time, the idea still so stark, almost _sharp_ on your tongue. You didn't want to start crying again. That was yesterday, today you were moving past it. Darian was surveying you closely, but didn't seem to see any stress significant enough to worry, seeing as he made no mention of cortisol levels, or micro-expressions or something else ridiculous that you didn't realise any model of android could scan for. His hand began to move up to your neck to administer the ointment there, but at the sight, you violently flinched away. You hadn't even meant to, your body just moved, and you were shaking again, and you may as well forget that little pact you'd just made with yourself _just then_ to not cry, because you could feel the prick of tears in the corners of your eyes and-

Darian must have realised that he'd done something wrong, because he'd stepped away, hands out of sight, his voice obviously calling for you, but it felt far-off, like he wasn't crouched right in front of you. But something must have snapped you out of your panicked daze, as your eyes whipped to him. You had to take a shaky breath to try and regain some semblance of control over yourself.

"Maybe you'd like to administer the ointment yourself, there." He offered gently, sliding you the tube. You looked into his eyes, his face seemingly trying to convey... Comfort, was the best word you could think of to fit his expression. But it wasn't quite there, still that plastic-y sort of expression you'd expect from an android. Because that's all he is, you feel the need to remind yourself of that as you whispered a thank you, taking the cream and going about gently rubbing it in with shaking hands. The bruising there would be worse than everywhere else, and it hurt like hell. But you pushed through it, just doing your best to be gentle. The room was silent for a minute, as you continued to administer the cream.

"This android," Darian said suddenly, making you flinch, more out of surprise than anything, "Was it experiencing a malfunction?" You did your best to watch him as he spoke. He wasn't really looking at you, staring off to the window, observing something that you couldn't see with your head held in the position it was in, while you administered the cream. You found it odd, actually, the action being reminiscent of... daydreaming, or something along those lines. But even if you were intrigued, you didn't question it outright. Instead, after another moment's silence, you answered Darian's question the best you could manage.

"...It was. I don't know quite what, but it was definitely a malfunction,"  You said, as you finished applying the Hirudoid, capping the tube as you turned to look at Darian properly, "Why do you ask?"

Darian doesn't reply right away, and you can see the whirring yellow LED from where you were seated. 

"I'd just prefer to prepare myself against any malfunctions that could cause harm," He finally stated, maybe more firmly than needed. You assessed his face again as he turned to look at you, noting that his expression now was... More human. It held a depth to it that wasn't present just before, like he was _feeling,_ and feeling multiple things at once. You knew he wasn't, couldn't. But you didn't know how he looked so human in that moment. You sensed that maybe you shouldn't comment any further on the subject of Irwin, just nodding silently, letting the tension that had risen for a moment simmer back down.

After a few more long moments of silence, you took a breath before pushing yourself off the couch, "Well, I guess I should unpack all of my stuff before doing the shopping, right?" You turn to head to the front door, where you'd deposited most of your boxes, only to stop.

They weren't there.

"I unpacked the remaining boxes yesterday evening once you'd left. I hope you don't mind," Darian said, "And besides, I would not recommend too much physical activity in your current state-"

"They're bruises, Darian, I'll survive." You assured him as you turned, a little stunned, "You unpacked everything?" You felt a little bad, despite yourself. You found that you had to remind yourself, again, as you surveyed Darian, that despite his human-like appearance, despite the way his expressions sometimes held more capacity than an emotionless machine should, that he was just an android. He was programmed to do these sorts of menial tasks that you loathed and held off on. But even that reminder did nothing to ease the guilt. 

"I... Uh. Thank you, Darian." You said genuinely, "I guess I'll get changed and we can go shopping, then?"

 Darian's face scrunched up into a look of concern, "I once again wouldn't recommend-"

"Darian, as much as your concern's appreciated, I am so damn hungry, and I'm gonna need to know how to walk to the store," You told him, already heading to your bedroom to get ready, a room you'd realised that you had utilised far less than anticipated over the last few days.

Darian mustn't have had anything to say in argument, because he was silent as you turned into your room, pushing the door closed with your foot as you reached for the clothes you'd already piled on top of your dresser the day you arrived. For easy access, you'd convinced yourself. You picked out an outfit, before vowing that you would, eventually, actually pack them away... Maybe.

At some point.

When you stepped out of the room, Darian was just down the hall, seemingly waiting for you. You sent him a smile as you slid on your shoes, thanking him as you took the purse he'd already grabbed for you. You made sure you had everything, especially your keys, before heading for the door. Darian followed, seeming very invested in watching your every move. It was a little disquieting, and sort of made you feel like you were made of glass, and you suddenly found yourself a little aware of your fragility. You could very easily have died so many times last night, because as a human, you  _were_ fragile, and you wondered how aware of this Darian was. Because suddenly,  _you_ were very aware. More so than you possibly ever had been.

You double checked that you had everything,  _again,_ before locking up the front door.

"Alright, where's the store?" You asked as you turned, tucking away the key into one of your many pockets. Darian was walking slightly in front of you, seemingly leading you.

"Not too far down the road, it shouldn't be a very long walk." He said. You finally looked up, sending him a small smile.

"Well, lets not waste time, I'm hungry."

"You've mentioned that." Darian responded, almost quipping, but there wasn't the sarcastic humour you'd link to such a phrase normally. Oh well. He'd learn.

Most of the walk was fairly quiet, save for the odd comment here or there about things you spotted along the way. Detroit was certainly different from your hometown, and it showed in how the streets looked, how the people acted, the whole atmosphere felt entirely new. And wet. The atmosphere in Detroit was very, very wet.

You subconsciously noticed that you were being a little more careful, checking more than what was probably necessary when crossing the road, walking past other people swiftly and keeping your distance where you could. You'd realised how bad it was when someone accidentally brushed against you as they walked past, and you flinched so bad you almost knocked Darian onto the road.  He steadied you, your eyes turning downward toward your feet.

"God, I'm never this jumpy..."

Darian assessed you for a second or two, "Are you still fit enough to go to the store?" He asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

"Yes, yes I should be... I should be alright," You nodded, "I didn't mean to knock into you Darius, I'm sorry." You apologised. Darian gave you a look, one you couldn't place fast enough, because it was gone, and you'd both started walking again.

Soon enough, you found the corner store. You probably would've gotten lost if you were following directions there, but Darian must have had the trip committed to memory, because he even seemed to know a few quick shortcuts, as if he'd been here a thousand times already.

It was just a little supermarket, you found as you stepped through the automatic doors, nothing outwardly special popping out. You noticed that almost everything was on sale, though, which was pretty cool. You grabbed yourself a basket, Darian following you as you scoured the shelves. You checked the use by dates, just in case everything was on sale for a good reason, but found that everything was about as fresh as a supermarket would get, so you went about grabbing what you'd need. A few vegetables and pieces of fruit, maybe some cheese, some bread...

You really weren't a picky eater, and with an incoming Cyberlife cheque, and possibly compensation for last night's incident, you had a feeling you could buy a fair amount. Maybe you'd be needing a trolley instead of this basket-

Suddenly, you'd stumbled into someone, and you found yourself apologising profusely out of habit, before even looking up. When you did, though, you found your mouth seemed to have forgotten how to form words, because you recognised the silver hair and scraggy old jacket that met your eyes, fast enough to stiffen and straighten up, as if you'd done something wrong enough for him to arrest you for bumping into him in a supermarket aisle.

"Hank?" 

He was already in the process of turning, probably to shout at you for being an idiot, but he turned faster at you saying his name, eyes already squinting in suspicion when they landed on you. He recognised you pretty quickly, the look he'd been holding dropping quickly enough, a flicker of something else you couldn't quite name taking its place, "Oh shit, it's you." Not the best first words to start a conversation, but you supposed it gave room to work from.

"I'm so sorry for running into you, I wasn't paying attention, and-"

"Nah, don't be stupid, it's fine," He responded, waving his free hand in the air. His response calmed you a bit, and your stiff posture relaxed as you remembered that this guy lended you the same jacket he was wearing after what could feasibly have been the worst night of your life, and the stiffness that you'd probably usually have talking to another officer probably didn't quite apply here. Hank moved to put down his basket, as if he needed both hands to talk to you. It was full of mostly booze, you noticed. You thought you spotted a can of dog food somewhere near the bottom, but there was a whole lot of alcohol sat on top.

"Party?" You asked, nodding down to the basket. He looked down to his basket, maybe for a second too long, before looking back up, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

"Party of one, yeah." He replied. Oh. _Oh._ You winced at your bad observation, taking a sharp breath through your teeth.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, uh, gotcha... right," You tried to cover your mistake, fumbling to find something else to say, but Hank did all the covering for you.

"So, who's this?" He asked, eying something behind you. You turned. Oh, right. Darian. Standing at your back like some sort of bodyguard. Good lord, maybe you weren't ready to face the outside world today, with the amount of times you'd uttered 'Oh' in your head. When you turned back, you noted that Hank's look of suspicion had returned, though it was now aimed at your android. 

"This is Darian. He's accompanying me, seeing as I didn't know where this shop was until two minutes ago." You explained, "Darian, this is Hank... Actually, I don't think I know your last name." You said, him not seeming to mind such.

"Anderson, but seriously, Hank's just fine." He assured you, before reassessing the android, shifting his weight onto his heels. You had a strong hunch that he didn't like the things, the way he was looking at him, not to mention the way he was looking at Irwin last night. You wanted to shift the conversation, your mind finally deciding to work with you.

You cleared your throat, breaking up the staring contest that had begun between Hank and Darian, "So, you live around here, then?"

"Eh, sort of. Me and the store owner go way back, I get a bit of a 'family and friends' discount," He explained, "But yeah, I'm not too far from here." Hank hadn't entirely separated his gaze from Darian as he spoke, but he seemed to realise what you were doing, eyes flicking down to you, "How are you faring? After... Well, y'know."

"Yeah, I'm..." You look a breath as your hand reached up gingerly to touch your neck, but didn't stray past your collarbone, "I'm alive, which is nice. Added bonus for the night." You chuckled humourlessly, before glancing down, "Didn't sleep great, I'll be honest."

"I'm not surprised, kid, what you faced last night, most people won't in their lifetime," Hank said, wisely, almost, rubbing at the back of his neck, "I know how it is, it ain't easy." You nodded. You knew, you'd trained to deal with trauma, before realising that wasn't really the path you wanted to take. You knew what people usually felt, what they experienced, what they dealt with to get past it all, but living it was something else. But you knew, always had known, that it wasn't easy, and wasn't going to be. But you had a feeling there was something deeper than him just reassuring you.

You glanced up at Hank, "What about you? I know it's your job and all, but it was still probably a rough night, graveyard shift and all." 

Hank just shrugged, something you'd noticed him do a few times, very non-committal of him, "Like you said, I've seen worse shit. Not in the police station, but at crime scenes? Sure. I used to bust Red Ice rings, I've seen my fare share of bad." You winced at that. You'd heard of Red Ice, it wasn't much of a thing, from where you were from, but you'd seen and heard plenty on news reports. It reminded you of a lot of other methamphetamine's, the way it changed the neural pathways of addict's brains, how aggressive it was on their bodies. It was terrible.

"Wow, I can't imagine the sort of scenes you would've faced, dealing with that," You said, "What do you do now, then?"

"Homicide," Good lord, from one extreme to the other, "I shouldn't really have been working last night's case, wasn't _really_ a homicide, attempted murder and all, but Reed and Chen thought they might've needed me for the interrogation." 

"Well, I'm glad you did. You saved my life, and I couldn't thank you enough for that."

"You already did," Hank said, "About a thousand times last night." He chuckled quietly, and you couldn't help but do the same.

After a moment of silence that almost went on a bit too long, you looked down at Hanks basket, full of more alcohol than one should feasibly drink in a week, before looking back up, "Uh, you know, if you ever wanted some company to help you down all those drinks, I'd be happy to come over and help." You offered, only with a hint of cheekiness. You imagined he was an alcoholic due to some sort of trauma, and you wouldn't be surprised, knowing now the sort of work he'd done on the force. You felt like now that Hank had gone and saved your life, the least you could do was be a friend. If he wanted.

Hank must have been surprised by your offer, before cocking an eyebrow, hands moving to his hips, "You inviting yourself over to my own house?" You balked suddenly at that.

"No! I just, uh-"

"Kid, I'm kidding." He quickly interjected, "You got a phone?" He asked, as he pulled out his. An old thing, an iPhone, maybe? God, you remembered when you paid into that gimmick. Your new phone was Cyberlife standard, manufactured to be price effective, and intuitive, much like their Android's.

Hank rolled his eyes at the sight of it, "Of course you have some fancy-schmancy Cyberlife phone."

"You can't talk, how much did that phone cost? A thousand and a half?"

Hank narrowed his eyes, before grumbling something mostly incomprehensible, before pointing at your phone, "Just lemme give you my number, for God's sake."

You chuckled, handing him the phone, snatching his own from his hand. God, an iPhone 8? They were released almost 19 years ago, it was a wonder it still functioned! 

You plugged in your number, deciding not to make mention of the slowness of the keyboard, double checking it once Hank handed your phone back. You pocketed your phone once more, as did Hank, before he picked his basket back up. You glanced back to Darian, who'd been silent throughout the entire conversation. He wasn't holding any particular expression, possibly appearing the blankest you'd ever seen him. You thought he may have shifted slightly closer to you, but you weren't sure.

"Well, I'll give you a call and we'll work something out, huh?" Hank said, sticking his free hand out to shake. You took it.

"Sounds like a plan, Hank." And with that you both went your separate ways, Hank to the check out, you continuing to grab the food and supplies you needed.

Once Hank was out of the store, catching your eye and sending one last wave, you turned to Darian, "Darian, I'm really sorry if Hank made you feel uncomfortable," you apologised for him, "I'd say after last night, he's just feeling... weary. There were some confronting scenes, to say the least, even for a homicide detective." You tried to explain, pulling a can off the shelf and staring at it as you spoke. Maybe it wasn't entirely truthful, you'd already had a feeling that he wasn't wholly comfortable around Android's with the way he was looking at Irwin last night, but Darian didn't need to know that.

It was silent for a moment, long enough that you looked up out of concern, only to see Darian giving you a contemplative look.

"What?"

"You don't need to apologise to me." Darian said suddenly, catching you off guard. You slowly placed the can of food into the basket as you tried to process his words.

"I... Of course I do, Darian, why would you say that?" You asked finally, watching his face as you spoke. His eyebrows furrowed, as he looked away, almost as if he was trying to look preoccupied, eyes scanning over the produce on the shelf.

"Apologies are made to cater for hurt feelings. I have no emotions to be damaged, or human sensibilities to be protected. I think you're aware of that."

You hesitated only a second before replying, "I am."

"Then why do you do it?" His voice was level, his cadence the same, but there was something in how he said it that just sounded  _human,_ confused and unsure. But there was an underlying curiosity, because he wanted to understand. The layers of... Processing, were there in a way that felt too organic to be programmed. You watched Darian's face carefully. You'd had Darian for all of 24 hours, surely he wasn't already... 

You decide to be truthful with him, vulnerable in a way you probably wouldn't have been, had he not been vulnerable in turn with you.

"Because if I make a mistake, I hold myself accountable for it," You say, with conviction, "whether or not you have feelings to be hurt or not, it doesn't mean you're any less deserving of respect, like every other person." 

It was Darian's turn to assess you now, possibly scanning you for something, god knows what capabilities Blanchard gave to him, you doubted she'd tell you.

After a moment, Darian blinked a few times, before nodding, breathing out a near silent, "Okay."

You sent him a smile at that, "Well, now we have that sorted," You said gently, "Let's go home."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I like Reader having this thing about having a bunch of pockets, but honestly guys, pockets are just the best thing. Like, you know when you have all these pockets and you can just feasibly carry anything? It's the best thing. 
> 
> I know it's been more than a week since I updated, I'm really sorry for that. Work's been keeping me busy, and I'm honestly feeling sort of meh about this chapter. It's important for a lot of reasons (Even if it isn't explicitly clear why yet, I promise it is!) but it feels like it... Meanders, to me. But I've read over it that many times that I'm probably too biased to be reliable anymore, and I couldn't hold back the chapter any longer without feeling terrible for it. I do hope you guys like it, even if it's not my best work. Connors coming, I promise!! And the plans I have for those chapters are a bit more exciting than a trip to the store. Thank you all so much for supporting this story despite it's severe lack of detective Android's, and my severe lack of organisation!
> 
> Thank you also for 300 hits! You guys have been really lovely and supportive of this story, and it honestly means so much to me. I hope you continue to enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> A brand new series? Maybe I'll be able to keep up with updates, for once!   
> I love this game a lot, and I'm really excited about where this could be going! I don't have a whole lot planned for the series just yet, though. But that's half the fun, isn't it?  
> Anyway, thank you all for reading!


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